A Million Screens

I feel hopeless, less than worthless;
I see your tears of pain splattered across
a million screens
I hear your cries, adverts of screeching,
starving, scared people
but still I leave you in what
are obviously less than capable hands

Hope less, worthless person.

Not even human, just a person
If I was human I'd fly,
fly to every less than perfect country
and sort
alleviate the problems, the death, the war,
the destruction,
the endless sweat which pours
from your mud splattered skin

Hopeless, worthless person.

I am, I accept the title
which I fully deserve
I buy the trainers, the jackets, the carpets
that make your hands bleed
they leave life long impressions
'Life long'.... a short life long at that
What memories do you have ?
Guns, war, pain, death

Hopeless, worthless person.

I can't remove the murky vision of you
but like those parliamentary slobs
I put you out of my mind
forget about your life
and get on with mine

Selfish, worthless, hopeless person.

City crumbling.....

You know I used to...
I used to read your eyes
They always showed...
showed when you would strike

Your huge, round eyes
Deep blue, cold, terrifying orbs
they'd often shrink before...
then your hand would raise
in that most demeaning salute

Thwack!!!

Me at the mercy of your
Ariel attack
Like a shattered city I would..
crumble...fall...shatter to the ground

Mucky marks, cracks and chips
that's all that adorns my walls
My windows, gaping holes
allowing water to bleed down my sides

My head and neck strain
I see everything in slow motion
The darkness ... whirring stars...
they are the only light
before my dazed eyes

That was the sunset on my city

My tears, form the rivers
which over flow
from their cage like drains;
my eyes, glazed see through the dark
My daunted expression flickers
as your moustache twitches

And there I am once again
Marching, following your orders
my modern hitler
My fascist father
I salute and "Heil"

Dear reader,

I realised the people that read this- if they actually read this blog- will probably not have a clue why some wierdo just decided to put some poetry on a blog.

I am, as my nearest and dearest friends will tell you, enthralled by poetry. My view is that literature rips open all boundries and allows the reader to see the soul of the writer, their views, their emotions and their insatiable need to write. That's what these poems are. They are not just my outlet but a little window to me. I find it hard to tell people how I feel sometimes; so I write these poems and there, on the page, is the strongest emotion I'm feeling.

My best friends say that my poetry links to people around me. It does not. Not consciously anyway. I hope that on some level these poems touch you, I hope that they draw some form of emotion from the people who read them even if that form takes the shape of hate (hence the sub title "you'll either love it or hate it").

Yours sincerely

Abigail

Moving forward

I move forward in small steps
during minutes, hours and days
I come across barriers
I hate their irrational concepts
Yet by nothing am I phased
I walk through my fears
jumping from jagged rock to jagged rock
wondering why I've been so scared over the years
unafraid I open every rusty old lock
I'm not desperately seeking sanctuary anymore
I'm finding my own safety at my own pace

I'm moving forward
All the comfort, people and places I love
are changing
one friend laughs another cries; surely she's joking
Then they read my sad eyes
but I'm not fearful
I won't be scared again
I'm just regretful
I'm losing them; we know it
But I'm moving on and I'm happy
so I won't show it

my guitar

I'm sat here with my guitar

looking at the strings

strumming with my fingers

wishing I were in a swing

playing through the wind

just moving,



swaying through the storm

thats raging in my brain

and making my head sting

I'm looking at my sketch book

I've got the design in my head

but my fingers are locked




they won't move or make sense

I'm thinking now looking back

I feel so dense

I can't write I can't draw

I can't understand this confusion

I am utterly tense

Look at me while I cry. What do you see ???

If I could cry I would; but I promised myself I wouldn't
I promised myself that I'd look at you
and only see you as a friend
I willed myself; but then you came over and asked
me to listen to you, asked me to care again
As if I ever stopped; you hurt me too much.
My brain freeze frames on the worst picture
the one of you
and of her.
She only ever really had eyes for you.
It's stuck in my memory. It doesn't move
It won't relent.



I look up into the face that I once trusted
Into the eyes that once seemed so loyal
At your mouth, that once covered mine
That covered hers
And I turn to stone, I will not cry anymore
So I plaster on a smile and I leave
just like that
Can you see me? I'm walking,
going through the doors that were our beginning
and are now our end